What if Visionary Doesn't Mean Life Overall?
by Dolls-were-meant-to-throw-away
Summary: "There is no us." she spat, her hands balling into fists by her sides. "I'm nothing like you." Clarke was surprised by the venom in her words, but she refused to be like Lexa. She didn't want to be anything like her. (AU starting at the end of s 2 in which Grounders act like Grounders. May loosely follow bits of s 3. Eventual Clexa.)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So I definitely don't own the show or the characters, and I'm definitely not making money off of this, nor will I ever. I do, however, own the rights to the souls of their writers. I'm holding onto them until the dark prince of the night sets up his account. A lot has been ripped directly from season two, so much so that I didn't italicize it like a lot of FF writers do, but it's there and I have admitted as such publicly. If you watch the last episode as many times as I did, you can spot my embellishments. Most of them are pretty obvious even without the six hours of homework. The format isn't too nice, this was a mobile phone baby. Though once again, I'm not a terrible middle aged failure of a writer, so this won't end up on the best seller list. Shame. For now the updates will crawl along pretty unsteadily, but I started writing this when I was sure they were gonna kill Lexa. I knew I was going to need it when that happened, and I thought some of you might too. It's definitely AU from the first letter on, but will loosely folllow some parts of s3. Starts off nicer to Bellamy than I'd like, I really tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. And that was really long, but if you're still hanging in there I promise this won't disappoint. Also WTF with the Tara thing. Not cool, guys.

 **What if Visionary Doesn't Mean Life Overall?**

"You made the right choice, Commander." Emerson said, turning to head towards the door back into Mount Weather.

Clarke looked at Lexa, feeling dizzy and weak at the betrayal. They had come so far. She turned her head to watch Emerson's retreating form, needing to keep her attention off the woman she had grown so close to so fast. She needed to think. Her mind was racing, and she fought to keep her breathing steady.

A second before he disappeared into the mountain, Emerson dropped to his knees, the hilt of Lexa's dagger sticking from the back of his neck.

The commander drew her sword and started the charge. Clarke stood dumbfounded for a moment before she jogged after her. There was a flurry of gunfire, and Clarke was amazed that she didn't see anyone go down.

Another harvested grounder stumbled out, several points on his bare chest bleeding freely. Clarke knew then what had happened. She could recognize a bullet wound, and this man had at least five.

Lexa slipped in through the gap, Clarke following as soon as she could, but the full fighting force was stymied at the bottle neck as the team on the ropes worked to haul the door open.

Clarke braced herself for what she knew lay beyond, but the sheer horror of it all nearly brought her to her knees. When she got through, she had to make her way past a mass of slaughtered prisoners, a few groans making her aware that some had survived. She looked ahead to see Lexa raging at a second reinforced door, three Mountain Men struggling to close large slashes in their suits behind her.

The carnage was devastating, but there had to be more grounders inside somewhere. Lexa gave the door a final thump with her fist, shouting what Clarke could only assume was a curse before she turned away.

The commander's face was calm and composed, but her eyes blazed with fury. She kicked away a gun from the hands of one of the irradiating Mountain Men as he tried feebly to aim it at her. Otherwise she didn't bother finishing them off, walking past as the outside air did the job for her.

"Come, there is nothing more we can do here." Lexa stated quietly to Clarke before her attention turned to the waiting army.

She gave an order in Trigedasleng, and two of her warriors moved from the throng, the space between airlocks small enough for the rest to have seen that there was no point in following their leaders inside once the door was opened.

The two grounders Lexa had called in moved through their fallen comrades, pulling a few injured from the mess and putting the rest out of their misery. Lexa stepped around the bodies of her people, bending to pull her dagger free when she came to Emerson. She turned to the waiting horde.

"This is not the end! Oso gonplei nou ste odon nowe!" she shouted to her and Clarke's people alike. "They hide behind their heavy doors, but they can not stop us. Before this night's end, the mountain -will- fall." she looked at her army, letting their shouts die down before lifting her weapon high. "Jus drein, jus daun!" she cried, her fist pumping into the air in time as her people took up the chant.

Rage coursed through Clarke, the words falling from her lips without a thought. She had planned a rescue mission, and the Mountain Men had turned it into a massacre. She forgot everything but the need for retribution, just like she had when the missile had hit Tondc. She had to find another way in.

The chanting died down, and Clarke walked over to Lexa.

"Stay here. Make them think we're trying to lure them out."

The commander nodded.

"Clarke, I'm... I didn't mean to upset you before." she said, the edge lost from her voice.

"I know." she started to turn to go, but then she paused. She gave Lexa a small smile. "Try not to die, okay?"

"Death is not the end."

And with that, Clarke was gone. She found her way to the entrance of the reaper tunnels surprisingly quickly. She found her team in place at the door, still waiting for Bellamy.

"What happened?" she asked, Octavia rolling her eyes in response.

"Your inside man never showed up." Indra looked as surly as always, and Clarke wished she could have stayed up top with Lexa.

"Mount Weather tried to make a deal. Plans changed." she said, not eager to recount the whole story.

"Then what is your plan, Clarke of the Sky People?"

Clarke was startled by a beep coming from the door nearby. They all stood stock still as they waited to see if friend or foe was coming for them.

"Clarke? What the hell happened?" Bellamy asked from the rectangle of bright florescent light.

Octavia crossed the few steps to wrap her arms around her big brother. She let him go when she saw Jasper and Monty come through behind him.

"I knew it, you two are too scrawny to drill." she smiled, hugging Jasper as well. Her eyes narrowed, her hand moving to her sword when she saw the person in the radiation suit behind them.

Clarke saw Indra draw her blade and drop into a fighting stance, but she didn't rush towards the door.

"Hey, it's alright. It's Maya. She's been helping us." Jasper said, making sure everyone had their hackles back down before he moved to wrap his arms around Clarke, Monty joining in behind him.

She mouthed a thank you to Maya. Clarke returned the hug for as long as she could stand it, but soon after the boys came near her she began to feel suffocated and dodged away. She was too on edge to be happy to see anyone right now.

There was the sound of an alarm, and Jasper walked back to Maya to check her suit.

"Thirty minutes. What? No. We just changed it." he looked back at Clarke as if she would have a solution and she felt her stomach sink. "This is her last tank."

"We'll get her another one." Clarke said, not knowing how else to reassure him.

"All the supplementary oxygen is on level five." came Maya's muffled voice.

"Great, so we'll go there." it was Jasper again. He was shifting from foot to foot, hand on his weapon.

"We can't, it's too dangerous." there was a certainty in Maya's voice that made Clarke nervous.

"We can use the trash chute again." Jasper looked ready to fly at any moment.

"To get in, maybe." Bellamy cut in. "But every soldier in the mountain is there. We'll never make it out."

"We'll split up. We can take Maya, you guys figure out where they took our people." Octavia said, stepping towards Maya and Jasper and turning to look at Indra, waiting for her mentor's permission.

"They will do well to have a real warrior with them." Indra said with a nod, and Octavia stood up a little straighter at the compliment.

The three jogged off, and Clarke looked to Bellamy.

"What happened to my grounder army?" his eyes were intense as they studied her "We went to lead them out of the harvest chamber and they were gone."

"Mount Weather tried to make a deal. It went badly for everyone." Clarke nodded for Indra and the guards to follow her through the door Monty had been holding for them.

"What's your plan?" Bellamy asked when they were all inside. She wished he hadn't.

"We'll figure it out as we go." she had been hoping he had had one, but she wasn't about to ask in front of Indra.

"We should go get Dante. He helped us before, he might help us again." Bellamy stated, and Clarke almost sighed she was so relieved. "Maya said that he's still in quarantine. It isn't far from here."

"Monty, can you get me to the command center? I want to see where our people are." the boy nodded. "Bellamy, you and Indra go and get Dante and meet us there. We'll take care of anybody we find inside."

"Sure thing." Bellamy squared his shoulders.

"And Bellamy?"

"Yeah?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Try not to die."

"I'll be fine." he grinned, leading Indra down the hall towards quarantine, both their weapons drawn.

Monty took off down the hall, seeming as eager to get moving as Jasper had been.

"Do you think you can get Lexa's people in through the front without blowing the airlock?" she asked as she jogged to keep up with him, the two former sky guards following.

"I don't know. Maybe. It'll be a stretch." he navigated his way through the tunnels easily, slowing to a crawl a few turns in. He stopped at a corner and waved them forwards, his back against the wall. "I don't know how many soldiers they have who've gotten the bone marrow. There might be guards." he whispered.

The two guards drew their weapons and crept around the corner. Seconds later they waved her and Monty forwards. The hallway was empty. It was the first good sign since Bellamy had disabled the acid fog.

The sky guards stood on either side of the door as Monty pulled the panel off the electric lock. When he got them in, Clarke entered, gun drawn. The room was empty and dark. She gave the all clear.

Monty headed right for a computer, and Clarke watched as the screens flickered to life. Maybe if she knew where her people were, she could have a plan by the time Bellamy came back with Dante.

She saw Raven, strapped to a table in a room full of captured sky people. They were cuffed to the wall. Livestock awaiting execution. The remaining grounder prisoners had been abandoned behind the second door, their captors having fled to the safety of level five. She was satisfied to see that they had taken a few of the Mountain Men down, but at a great cost to their already dwindling numbers.

Bellamy forced Dante in at gunpoint. It wasn't starting as well as she could have hoped.

"Indra?" she asked, looking behind him.

"Sweeping the halls. I don't think she likes me very much." he said, giving her another grin before he looked at the screen. He gave Dante a shove when he saw Raven. "Make them stop." he growled, grabbing a radio and shoving towards the former president.

"I won't do that." he was surprisingly calm, his friendly drawl infuriating her, his hands hanging limp at his sides.

"Why not?" she glared at him "You could just let them go. We can stop this right here, right now."

"You know why, Clarke. Tell me, if I released your people and theirs, what would happen to mine?" he looked smug, always so sure he was on higher ground.

Clarke couldn't look at him anymore. She turned back to the screen. And then she saw her mother. She marched over to Bellamy and took the radio from his hand.

"Calling Mount Weather security detail." she said as she held down the button, her voice cold and harsh.

"Mount Weather security, Captain Grant. Who is this?"

"Give the radio to the President."

"Who is this?"

"Cage will know. Now give him the radio." she was holding the thing so tight she was amazed she didn't break it.

"Who-?"

"Just give him the damn radio. Tell him..." she released the button and looked right at Dante. "Tell him that I have his father."

"This is President Wallace."

Her blood rushed into her ears. It was Cage. Monty brought the image from the camera on him front and center.

"I have your father. If you don't let my people go, I'll kill him."

"How do I know you have him?" he was speaking directly at the lens.

She thrust the radio into Dante's face.

"Stay the course, Cage." her stomach dropped at the man's words. She was going to have to kill him.

"You won't do it." Cage tried to appeal to her softer side. The part of her that believed in truth and justice. Clarke wasn't even sure that part of her existed anymore.

"You don't know me very well." it was almost funny, after everything he'd done, everything she'd seen, that he let his father's life ride on human decency. "This ends now. Release my people."

"I can't do that."

"It would mean the end of our people, Clarke." Dante seemed to think that was a reasonable excuse. She drew her gun, cocked it, and pointed it at the man.

"Clarke, we need him." Bellamy stated, taking a step away from the former president. She couldn't tell if he meant to subdue her, or if he was just getting out of the way.

"And I need his son to believe me." she held down the talk button on the radio "Don't make me do this."

"Dad, I'll take care of our people."

"None of us has a choice here, Clarke." the old man said.

"I didn't want this." it was true, she knew Dante thought he was doing what was right for his people. And she had killed far too many people on this planet.

"Neither did I."

She squeezed the trigger, the bullet burying itself in the right side of his chest. Not a clean shot, but it proved effective. He fell, and Clarke realized what she had done. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn't have time to mourn. War was never easy. Bellamy looked at her, and it seemed like he wanted to say something, but she couldn't meet his eyes. She clung to the last flickerings of anger, and tried to fan them back to life. She took a deep breath and stepped towards the screen.

"Listen to me very carefully. I will not stop till my people are free. If you don't let them go..." I am become death, destroyer of worlds "I will irradiate level five."

Cage looked stricken by the words, his back to the camera, his proud frame slumping.

"Cage, listen to me. I don't want anyone else to die." this time she had to think of all the innocent people gathered in the dining hall to mean it. Dante would haunt her once this was over, but she was determined to see Cage burn for what he had done. "Stop the drilling, and we can talk. There must be a way to get us all out of this."

"Where's he going?" Bellamy asked, and they watched as Cage headed for the dorm where their people were being held.

"Monty, can you do it? Can you irradiate the level?" Clarke's heart was pounding. She didn't want this. She half hoped it wasn't possible.

"I can do it." he kept typing, but he looked as scared as she felt.

"Wait a second, Clarke, we need to think about this." of course now was the time Bellamy would start trying to be the voice of reason. "There are kids in there."

"I know." half of her prisoners were kids too. Or they had been before they left the Ark. And her mother...

"And people who helped us."

"Please, give me a better idea." she could hear her own desperation.

Bellamy turned away from her and watched the monitors. Cage had them take Raven off the table. They strapped down Clarke's mother in her place. Did he think he could break her? Or was he striking out because he knew she had all the power?

"What have I done?" Clarke asked, feeling how young she still was. Feeling her fear. She had backed herself into a corner. There was only one way she could get her people out of this now.

Cage had them start drilling into her mother. The sound was off, but Clarke could hear her screams.

"Clarke, if we do this, there is no going back." Bellamy was doing exactly what she had done with Lexa back in Tondc. He knew as well as she did how it had to end, but a feeble defense helped him feel good and merciful.

Monty met her eyes and she nodded.

"Figure it out." she reminded herself that there were no Mountain Men that could survive without preying on others.

"Now what?" Bellamy asked, looking at a monitor behind her.

Clarke turned to see people running. Octavia took down two guards before she even realized what was happening.

"They've got to get out of there." now Bellamy sounded just as scared as she has been when they started torturing her mother.

"Jasper, they caught him." Monty had caught sight of his best friend on the screen, cuffed and being led into the dorm.

Octavia and Maya were in the dining hall, surrounded by guards in body armor, their guns trained on the two young women.

Monty had gone silent. He was looking at her.

"Why are you stopping?" Clarke asked him.

"Because I did it." there was no trace of nerves in his words anymore. "All we have to do-" he pointed to a lever on the desk in front of him. "is pull this. Hatches and vents will open, and the scrubbers reverse, pulling in outside air."

There was the sound of a gunshot outside, the monitor showing a figure in a radiation suit at the end of the hall. One of their guards was down.

"Clarke, we're out of time." Monty's voice sounded hazy, far away.

She curled her fingers around the handle and looked to the image of her mother, still immobilized and conscious on the operating table. Clarke wondered if she would be able to come back from this.

"My sister, my responsibility." Bellamy said, his eyes glued to the feed from the dining hall.

"I have to save them." Clarke spoke, her voice thick. She felt Bellamy's hand on top of hers and she looked up, puzzled.

"Together." he said, looking into her eyes.

She nodded. A small part of her felt lighter knowing that it wouldn't just be her. Someone would share in the responsibility.

They pulled the lever up and the sound of circulating air stopped for a second. When it came back on, they knew it was done. They had done what they had to to save their people. An alarm sounded throughout the bunker, and they watched as the last of Mount Weather burned.

"Let's go get our people." she said quietly. She felt like crying, like breaking down, but the tears wouldn't come. It was better this way. She still had things left to do. "Monty, could you disengage the locks out front? The grounders want their people back too."

He didn't reply, just nodded and typed in some code. She only knew it had worked when he stood, and she steeled herself against the coming walk to level five.

When they left the command center they saw their fallen guard, two Mountain Men lying dead in the hall. Indra and their other man appeared unharmed.

"Go," she said to Indra. "there are some of your people left out front. Maybe a hundred. I'll tell Octavia where to find you." she looked at Monty "Can you get her there?"

"I can, but Jasper-"

"Jasper isn't going to want to see any of us right now." he was going to hate her. Maybe until the day she died. And then there was Octavia.

Monty nodded and led the grounder woman away.

When they got to the dining hall, they stopped. These people hadn't deserved to die any more than her own. Any more than all those grounders behind the main door. Clarke felt sick and numb when she saw how many of them had been children.

They began to walk through to get to the dorm, and she saw Jasper. He was cradling Maya's body in his lap and there were tears streaming unbidden down his face. Clarke wished she could cry too, especially when she saw the hate in his eyes when he looked at her.

"What did you do?" his voice was a hoarse and hollow whisper.

"We had no choice." she said, but that would never be a good enough answer. Not for him.

"I was gonna kill Cage. If you'd just given me one more minute, it would have been over." his hands were shaking, and the strength was returning to his voice.

"Jasper. They never would have stopped." Bellamy shook his head sadly.

"We have to go to the dorm." she choked out, walking past her grieving they got to where their people had been held, most of them were already free.

"Mom!" she ran to where her mother sat on the table and clung to her, barely noticing that she had to push Marcus out of the way. She could feel her sobbing. If Clarke was going to cry, this would be the time to do it. Tears welled up in her eyes, but not enough for them to fall. Not as many as there should have been. She let go of her mother and took a half step back. She gave a watery, defeated smile. "I tried." her throat felt raw, words rough. She nodded as if it would add strength to the words and then have a shrug. She felt helpless. "I tried to be the good guy."

"Maybe there are no good guys." her mom whispered to her, and Clarke felt a hot tear trickling down her face as she let herself be pulled into another tight hug.

They had to carry her mother and Raven back to camp, and halfway through the walk Clarke's adrenaline wore off. She gave up her place by her mother's side and fell to the back of the group. When they made it back to Camp Jaha, she gave Monty a silent hug, watching as he moved in past the fence. Bellamy approached her.

"I think we deserve a drink." his stance was so proud, so easy as he drew up to her side to survey what was left of their people.

"Have one for me."

"Hey, we'll get through this." he didn't understand what she was trying to tell him. She shook her head.

"I'm not going in." she swallowed, looking to the ground before focusing back on their camp.

"Clarke, if you need forgiveness..." he turned to look at her then. "I'll give that to you. You're forgiven."

She looked back into his eyes and attempted a smile, but then she looked away. She had thought they would share the weight of the mountain, but his words let her know that he would never truly feel the consequences of their actions. Not the way she did.

"Please come inside." she heard that same panic in his voice that he had had as he watched the Mountain Men surrounding Octavia. She nodded, her mind made up.

"Take care of them for me." it was more of an order than a question, her eyes flicking to him.

"Clarke..." she looked at him again, really studying his face, and saw how much he needed her.

"No, seeing their faces every day... It's just going to remind me of what I did to get them here."

"What we did. You don't have to do this alone."

She felt the tears well up in her eyes and she looked back at her people.

"Where're you gonna go?" he asked, his tone sad and resigned.

"I don't know." they shared a long look. She moved forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She allowed herself the comfort of a hug. "May we meet again." she said quietly. She gripped his arm as she backed away from him. When she couldn't stand it any longer, she turned and began to walk away.

"May we meet again." she heard him say quietly to himself.

She walked alone towards the forest, knowing she no longer had anything to fear from the tribes that inhabited it.

Just another day on the ground.

Clarke couldn't say she was surprised when, after an uneasy night spent in the woods, she found herself standing at the entrance to Lexa's tent. She nodded to the guards, straightening her posture before she stepped through.

"Clarke?" the commander looked up from where she had been sitting on her throne. "I thought you would be celebrating your victory with your people." Lexa's face was carefully blank as she looked her over.

"Bellamy is doing enough celebrating for the both of us." she wasn't sure why she would bring him up, and she definitely didn't think her departure left him with anything to celebrate.

"Oh?" a slight raising of her eyebrows, her unnerving, endless gaze still fixed on Clarke

"I just..." she frowned, sighing as she searched for her next words "It isn't something worth celebration. We may have won, but at such a cost... Was it really worth it?" she broke eye contact, staring downwards as she studied her hands.

"War always comes at great cost, Clarke." she stated quietly. "You must consider the outcome more important than the conflict, or you will never be victorious."

Clarke nodded, Lexa's advice wasn't always in keeping with her own thoughts or feelings, but she gave her a new perspective when she really needed one. Even if that perspective sounded harsh and brutal to Clarke's ears.

"They're all going to hold me responsible for what I've done." she returned the commander's gaze, silently begging her to say something. To tell her that it wasn't her fault.

"Are they? Or do you want them to?"

"I think a little of both." she sighed. Lexa wasn't going to give her forgiveness or comfort. But maybe she could help Clarke to understand why she couldn't face her own people.

"I know you had hoped that the Mountain Men could be spared, but this way is better for all of our people. You will come to see that in time." her words sounded confident, but her eyes were set on a point to the side of Clarke's head.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" she sighed, Lexa met her gaze again, her eyebrows raising slightly. "I know that this was probably better overall, but that doesn't change what I did. All those innocent people I killed." she fought back the flood of images from the dining hall.

The commander looked at her for a long moment, her shoulders dropping as she exhaled, letting herself be seen past her mask of authority. She glanced away and then sought her eyes again, giving a single nod. Clarke knew that was all the sympathy she was going to get. It was better, though. Better than Octavia's rage, Jasper's grief, her mother's painful compassion. Better than Bellamy's need. Just a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability to let her know that she wasn't alone.

"What will you do now?" Lexa asked when the moment had passed.

"I don't know. I can't go back. I can't stay in the shadow of Mount Weather." but she did know, she couldn't get past everything unless she could feel herself physically moving forward. "I was wondering if you were still headed back to Polis."

"I have a duty to my people." the commander smiled then, though the gesture was cautious and tight.

"Do you still want company?"

Lexa thought about this for a long while, and Clarke's heart was pounding by the time she got any kind of answer.

"I will have my people find you a suitable tent."

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Clarke fell asleep without really paying attention to her surroundings, and she slept until one of the guards outside her tent had to come inside to rouse her. She couldn't get more than a few bites of breakfast down, her nausea only abating when they were on their horses and ready to go.

She was anxious to get away, to get to Polis by nightfall, but with the army on foot behind them they were forced to amble along casually. Lexa rode beside her, making the occasional comment about a village or important geographical marker. Clarke wasn't taking any of it in, and she didn't notice when the commander stopped trying to engage her.

It took everything Clarke had to fight off a slew of images. Jasper's tears as he held Maya's lifeless body. Dante crumbling to the ground. The desolation around the crash site, her fight there with Anya. The short time they were allies and the desperate attempt to keep her alive. Lexa agreeing to join forces with her if only she could give up Finn.

She had wanted so desperately to keep him alive, but a part of her had known as soon as she heard about the massacre that his days were numbered. How, when Raven slipped her the knife, she knew that she wouldn't use it to start a war they couldn't win. His final whisper in her ear, thanking her as she slid the blade up under his ribs and into his heart.

She felt as her tears started to fall, and she did her best to keep her face calm and composed. She took steady, even breaths as she cried, wanting to call as little attention to herself as possible. By the time they stopped to camp for the night, she felt empty and hollow. She stood by her horse until her tent had been set up and then she made a beeline for it, not bothering to wait for any of the hunting teams to return with game for dinner.

"You can't punish yourself for surviving." Lexa said as she followed Clarke in through the canvas flap.

"Why not?" Clarke knew she was just being petulant, refusing to look back and acknowledge the other woman. The commander gave a heavy sigh.

"We arrive at Polis tomorrow. You have to be strong to show my people that our alliance with yours is not a mistake."

"I can't." she felt fresh tears prickling in the corners of her eyes, but she refused to give in again. Not here. Not in front of Lexa. "Why is it that Finn had to die for what he did, but I'm supposed to act like some kind of hero?"

"Finn let his emotions destroy him, and he took that out on the helpless. You made every decision to lead your people to victory. Do not let the cost of victory destroy you too. You made it through the loss of your lover. You made it through the bombing in Tondc. You can make it through the death of the Mountain Men." her voice was strong with conviction, and Clarke was almost swayed. "Our fight is not over."

"When does it get to be over, then?" Clarke rounded on her. "When do I get to stop fighting? When do I get to give up?" she didn't want to fight, she came to Lexa so she could run. Why couldn't she see that?

"You don't get to give up, Clarke." she held up a hand to stop any protest "You may not like it, but you are the one your people look to to protect them." her look was serious. "This was your first war. It will not be your last. You have lost yourself, but you will soon run out of time. People like us don't get to stop fighting."

"There is no us." she spat, her hands balling into fists by her sides. "I'm nothing like you." Clarke was surprised by the venom in her words, but she refused to be like Lexa. She didn't want to be anything like her.

There was half a second where Lexa's face fell, and then she was back behind her mask of ice, her chin tilting upwards proudly. She turned, casting a brief glance over her shoulder.

"Goodnight, Clarke." she said quietly before stepping out into the night.

Clarke watched the commander's silhouette until it faded into the shadows of the camp. She would not let this planet turn her into a grounder. She didn't care if that hurt Lexa's feelings.

A short while later one of her guards came in and set a dish of food down at the low table she had been given. She sat cross legged on the packed earth and ate with her fingers until only bones and scraps remained.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hello lovelies. I'm so sorry it took so long for this to get to you! With any luck a few of you are still hanging around. To those who left coments, thank you so much for taking the time to share your thoughts with me! (Your full replies are in the comment section) I've been hoping to get this plunking along a little quicker as I get a better feel for the world and the characters. This chapter will be a little, well a lot different, from the show, and I make some major moves away from canon. I've found some serious continuity issues in the show's science as I've reserched for this, and hopefully I'll have come up with some satisfying answers for you too. Thanks for sticking through my ramblings if you've made it this far, and I truly do hope you enjoy exploring this new world with me. ~Dolly

P.S. don't follow Debnam Carey to Walking Dead. AMC/theCW/BBCAmerica are horribly inbred and have been killing off their queer characters at very alarming rate. Do NOT support them with your time/money/numbers while their neoconservative culling continues. Throw your weight at ABC/Disney who have made huge strides as far as the representation of well rounded characters who are queer/PoC (sometimes both!). If you must keep up, pirate.

The next day, Clarke only knew they approached Polis when the commander pulled up beside her.

"Lexa, I-"

"You don't have to do that." Lexa cut her off, her eyes on the road ahead.

As the day drew on, the steely silence between them began to wear on Clarke. The long journey on horseback had left her exhausted and sore, her whole body was burning. She tried to think of something to say to the commander to take her mind off her aching muscles, but every time she opened her mouth the words stuck in her throat. Lexa spoke to her occasionally, but mainly to let her know which village they were passing through. The few times she actually looked Clarke's way, it was only to correct her slouching posture or her hold on the horse's reins.

Each village now was closer to the last, and around midday they all began to run into one. Their already slow progress stagnated as they got closer to the city. Clarke had thought Polis would be crowded, but she had no idea just how many bodies could fit into the tight spaces between the cobbled together buildings. The streets were knotted with Grounders, many of them stopping to call out to their returning Heda.

Lexa barely acknowledged the words flung her way, occasionally giving one of her subjects a nod or the merest suggestion of a smile. The commander led their party to a square Clarke believed to be the center of town. When she looked back, curious as to how the army would stay together in the throng, she could only see a few of the riders that had followed them from the battlefield.

There was a bubble of space around herself, Lexa, and the few mounted guards still with them, but enough of a crowd packed into the square that Clarke felt overwhelmed and encroached upon. The air was heavy and thick with smoke, the small openings between buildings not allowing the wind in to reduce the smog of uncountable cooking fires.

The commander made her way alone into the of the middle of the square. A hush swept through the bustling city center, a sea of people already gathered for her victory speech. The crowd parted to allow her through, and by the time she dismounted, the space around her had widened into a small circle. One of the warriors walked her horse up beside Clarke's and quietly translated Lexa's words from Trigedasleng to English.

"Citizens of Polis Daun,-" she began, her voice strong and clear "the Maunon have been defeated." the people around them began to cry out in celebration, but their commander lifted her hand to quell the noise.

"The weight of the Maun-de has been crushing down on us for longer than any living can remember, but our new friends kom Skaikru have made it so our losses pale in comparison to the complete and utter destruction of the Maunon!" the people cheered, and the commander took a moment to glance back over her shoulder.

Lexa gave her the smallest nod, and Clarke's stomach twisted in on itself. The air around her was sweltering as she returned the gesture with as much of a smile as she could muster. The commander looked away to survey the crowd until the noise died down enough for her to continue on.

"Do not become so blinded by victory that you forget about the dead who freed you. I stand before you on our own mountain of fallen warriors."

"If death has no cost, life has no worth. But to be broken by our losses is to allow the reaping to continue. We will not allow our oppressors to control us from their graves!" Lexa's voice dropped, and even through the harsh edges of her native tongue there was something lilting and hypnotic in her words. "Invite those you have lost into your hearts and your homes. Drink a toast in their names. Offer them the first and the last of everything that passes your lips. Send them on into the next life with good cheer." there was a slight buzz from the gathered Grounders as their Heda's words sunk in.

"With death comes new life. Blood has answered blood, and Trikru has awoken to an age beyond the reapings. Celebrate your freedom. Let us revel in the dawn breaking over a new horizon." again, Lexa waited out her people's jubilant reaction, lingering nearly to the point of silence before she spoke.

"Not with grief, but with joy we honor you." her voice was strong, but held more respect than fire. She placed a fist over her heart. "May we meet again."

The commander's words were so soft that Clarke wasn't sure everyone had heard, but the message was clear. The simple phrase was repeated, almost as one, by the crowd. Even Clarke's own lips formed the words, and as she thought about everyone she'd lost to get this far, she meant them.

After Lexa's speech, she led their small party further into the city. It was still crowded, but Clarke finally felt like she had room to breathe.

Past the square the smoke began to clear and Clarke got her first real look at Polis. The people here were well dressed and washed, their linens and leathers sewn in clean lines. The shops and houses were still tightly packed, but the streets between them had grown in size. As they rode on, the buildings themselves began to get larger too. What at the front of the city would be room enough for many of the hodge podge little dwellings now supported maybe two or three homes built neatly out of wood and stone.

It was easier now too to distinguish the merchant spaces from the residential. The homes were larger, and aside from the eclectic gardens around them there was little to draw the eye. The shops, however, were painted colorfully with large tables out front displaying their goods. The shutters were open and the windows glassless, the people and goods inside easy to see.

When they had entered the city they had fought their way through a mass of pedestrians and donkey carts. Now the route was far from clear, but the crowds weren't as dense and traffic flowed smoothly. There were more horses here, and the amount of riders kept the foot traffic to the sides of the dirt roads.

It was almost louder now than when they had ridden into Polis. The noise had been overwhelming there, but it had all melted into a sort of droning. Now she could hear snippets of conversations, street hawkers, the occasional yelp or cry from the variety of animals and children running through the streets. Things would start to die down, to fade into the background, she would begin to relax, and then something would jar her back to the present. She couldn't focus. Her head was throbbing audibly, each pulse bringing with it a slight darkening at the edges of her vision. It was difficult to keep her eyes open, but closing them offered little relief.

She was so tired, and her muscles were begging her to put as much space between herself and the saddle as possible. She longed for the little tent she had spent the previous night in, and she wished she had rested easier.

Terrible screaming had woken her at a cold, damp, and unholy hour. Her heart was racing, but she lay as still as she could as she fought to get her senses under control. Clarke's hand slipped beneath her pillow, fingers curling around the knife she kept there. She strained to hear past the cacophonous rushing of her blood. From the gentle crackling of fires and the quiet murmurings of a camp undisturbed, she felt it safe to guess that the horror she had awoken to existed solely within her dreams.

She had thought briefly about going to the command tent to apologize and seek comfort, but Lexa's reaction, or lack thereof, to Clarke's beratement made her extremely nervous. She had dressed the commander down on a number of occasions and been met with equal passion. This time, though, Lexa's final words had felt more like a goodbye than a goodnight.

Clarke was brought back to reality with a jolt as she heard the commander calling her name.

"Come. The horses need to rest and you need to eat." Lexa stated, pulling on her reins and sliding nimbly from her mount before it came to a full halt.

Clarke yanked hard and her horse stopped dead, the momentum nearly lurching her from her place atop the animal. She carefully lowered herself to the ground, pain splintering through her lower half the second she touched down. She gripped at her saddle, black spots dotting her vision as she fought to get her bearings. She wouldn't let Lexa see her falter. She couldn't show any weakness with so many eyes on her.

Although the building in front of them was painted in the reds and yellows that designated it as a merchant space, the windows were small with patterned curtains that hid the inside from view. Clarke hoped it was some kind of lodging house. She would give anything to be able to lie down and close her eyes.

When she was ready to shift all her weight onto her aching legs, she uncurled her fingers and took a few shaky steps towards where the commander was waiting. She faltered briefly, but was saved from falling by a strong arm around her shoulders. The commander used her free hand to point off at something in the distance, and Clarke noticed that a mountain loomed beyond the city.

"Keep your head up, your shoulders back, and when you're ready you walk through that door like you belong here." Lexa's voice was quiet but firm, the care that had been present since their flight from the pauna all but gone.

Clarke was too afraid to look over at the commander, knowing the cold edge would be present in her gaze as well. Instead she nodded meekly and busied herself with studying the forested incline before them.

"I'm alright." she stated when she was sure she had found her footing.

Lexa's arm dropped, and a slight tilt of her head indicated for Clarke to go on ahead of her. A guard opened the door, and inside Clarke was dismayed to see only low tables with inset grills. There had appeared to be a second floor from the street, but nothing indicated that there was more here than what she could see.

When the commander entered, the handful of Grounders inside grew silent. Lexa nodded to her people and proceeded on to a large table towards the back. The warriors that had ridden with them from the square came in too, one lingering by the door, the others flanking herself and their heda as they settled on the cushions set out to function as seats.

No one tried to engage Clarke in conversation, and she was torn between relief and the uneasy sense that the Grounders were giving her an extremely wide berth. She guessed that whatever they were discussing wasn't terribly important as Lexa made no attempt to steer them away from using Trigedasleng.

The restaurant was warm and smoky, and Clarke had to fight to stay alert. She listened to their voices, the words tangling together until all she could make out was the sound of the commander's voice among the clamor. Each blink pulled her towards the void, the light in the room appearing to grow dimmer the longer her eyes fixed on Lexa.

Clarke drew in a sharp breath. Everything had been black, still, but now a hazy voice was pulling her back down into her body. Her heart rate spiked momentarily. She was tumbling through thickened air, the world around her spinning as she tried to pull her focus inward. Her head was aching as her eyes snapped open.

Once the initial rush of pain subsided, everything seemed sharp and clear. Clearer than she'd felt since before the Mountain. She didn't remember the restaurant being so bright when they had come inside. Air that had prickled her with smoke before was suddenly rich with the smell of strange foods cooking all around her.

She couldn't have nodded off for more than a second, but a plate of hot food had been placed before her. Her stomach rumbled painfully, and she wasted no time in shoveling the slices of roasted meat and vegetables into her mouth. By the time she was sated her hands were greasy, but napkins seemed to be past even high Grounder culture. She wiped her fingers on her gritty, travel worn pants and hoped that there was a change of clothes waiting for her wherever she was sleeping tonight.

Despite the fleeting clarity that had overcome her upon startling awake, her full belly left Clarke increasingly drowsy. She let her eyes drift closed and the darkness swelled around her like a warm blanket.

She was floating, flying, at once seated before the table and looking down on it from above. She could still hear Lexa and her guards speaking around her, but in her dreamlike state there was a strange clarity to the sounds. She thought she could make out several words similar to those in her own language, but perhaps that was merely her semiconscious mind playing tricks on her.

Before she could overhear anything useful, her companions began to rise to their feet. Clarke tried to make herself move, and for a moment she was afraid her body wasn't going to obey her urgings. She focused everything on moving the fingers of one hand. The sheer amount of willpower it took to curl a fist made her queasy, her entire body still feeling thick and heavy. By the time she could use that same force to get herself up off the ground her head and heart were pounding.

If anyone around her had noticed her sluggish movements, no one remarked on it. At least not with words Clarke could understand. She wasn't sure how long it had taken her to rouse herself, but if it had been as long as it felt the warriors had waited patiently for her.

Lexa took the lead as they left, standing in place before the door as two of her guards exited to clear the space outside. They called her forward, and Clarke soon found herself following the commander into sunlight so bright it made her eyes water. She knew it was too good to think they had settled in for the night when they had stopped earlier, but what she saw waiting for them in the road nearly brought true tears to her eyes.

A fresh team of horses stood saddled and ready to go among the chaos of the city streets. At their head stood a small open carriage hitched to a single horse, and Clarke felt a flood of relief rushing through her when she saw it was large enough for two. She was too tired even to be nervous about sitting so close to the commander.

Just like she had helped her into the restaurant, Lexa boosted Clarke up onto the plush red settee before hopping up beside her to take the reins. Her movements were friendly, familiar, but up close she was no more than civil, rarely sparing a glance at her companion.

They started up on the road again, the two large wheels supporting the cart providing them with anything but a smooth and secure ride. When Clarke trusted her voice, she attempted to engage the other young leader in conversation.

"Where-" she trailed off in an attempt to clear her throat, her voice sticky from misuse. "Where are we going?"

"Polis." the commander spared a brief glance in her direction.

"I thought we were in Polis." Clarke felt her brow draw down, trying to think back to Lexa's words when they had arrived.

The commander shook her head briefly. "This is not Polis. It was once. Before the Maunon started hunting Trikru. Long before the coalition formed it was the center of trade for my people. After the Reapings began, and the greatest of buildings fell, the Commander of the time ordered a new city to be built. A city hidden, inaccessible by foot from the Maun-de. Far from the cities of old and the destruction they caused our forests. A new Polis was born. A place where the Commander could entertain the leaders of the other clans and assure relative safety while their issues were addressed."

"I thought the Mountain Men were after all Grounders. Isn't that why you don't use guns?"

"It is why we, kom Trikru, do not use guns. Other clans have their own superstitions. Guns would not have helped us fight their chemicals or their bombs, and when they were foolish enough to face is honorably we didn't need them." the corner of her lips curled up into a smirk, and for a moment it felt like they were back in Tondc. Lexa was her guide to a foreign culture, a foreign planet, someone who could make sense of all the chaos that was Earth.

"But if Polis is in Trikru territory..?" Clarke trailed off, unsure of how to compete her question.

"Not all of our territory was vulnerable to the Maun-de."

"Then why did you stay? Why not move everyone away?" she frowned.

"Tondc was our home. Warriors are not afraid to fight for their land, even when the enemy seems invulnerable."

Clarke wasn't sure she agreed with the sentiment, but she nodded all the same and they lapsed into an uneasy silence.

"Lexa… last night…" she began, unsure of how to diffuse the tension mounting between them.

"Don't bother." The commander kept her eyes on the road, her voice hollow but steady. Clarke opened her mouth to respond, but she was cut off before she could get a word in edgewise.

"You were right, Clarke. The battlefield plays strange tricks on a person. I should never have pursued you. We're from different worlds." Lexa looked right at her "There is no us. There never was."

Clarke choked on her ready apology as the words struck home, her throat too constricted even to let air pass. Her heart sank like lead, and she quickly turned away to hide her springing tears. She wasn't ready to be with Lexa, but she wasn't ready to be without her either.

The road they were travelling rose steadily as they continued on, and before Clarke knew it they were looking out over the valley where she had spent all of her time on Earth. She focused on committing the lay of the land to memory. Anything to avoid looking at the woman beside her.

She could see hints of the forest beneath them, but the tree cover was so thick from this distance that she couldn't tell where exactly they had come from. Everything was so green, and in a few places Clarke could see fields like the one where Lexa's army had been camped. The view was so calming she almost forgot why she was here with Trikru and not back at Camp Jaha with her mother and Bellamy. Then she saw it. Her stomach dropped.

In the distance there was a huge hole in the blanket of green. It was so neat and tidy, but Clarke knew they were still struggling to rebuild Tondc beneath it. She had done that, let that bomb drop to save Bellamy. To save their war. She couldn't say it hadn't helped their victory, and she certainly couldn't say it wasn't her choice. She had wanted to save him, she hadn't spared too many thoughts for the people of Tondc.

She tried to think only of how glad she was to be surviving on Earth. How glad she was that all of humanity wasn't running out of air in space. Or dead, in a bunker, on a planet they could no longer survive.

The people who had built the twelve stations were the same as those who had been driven underground by nuclear destruction. Her people, along with the Mountain Men, had fled a hostile planet for an artificial life. Technology hadn't helped her people when life support on the Ark had failed, and culture certainly hadn't helped Dante and his people escape her.

The Grounders had been left to adapt and change with the earth. Clarke knew they had as much of a right to the planet they had stayed and fought for, and they definitely had the numbers to eradicate her people. The people who were at Camp Jaha, needing her to convince the tribal leaders that their culture, their knowledge, was worth something. Otherwise everything Finn, her father, and so many others had died for would be lost.

The road started to branch off as they got closer to the city, and continued on past the limb their small party turned onto. She wasn't sure how the riders ahead knew which of the many trails was the right one, they all seemed to disappear into the shadows. After what felt like hours of winding their way through the tree cover, the group finally began to slow.

Polis came up out of nowhere, one moment Clarke was looking at a solid canvas of bark and leaves, and the next they had come to a stop in front of a massive wall. The sheets of reclaimed metal were riveted unlike any grounder handiwork she had seen before. It stretched up to the tree tops, but it looked like the nearby branches had all been cut back.

The wall began to creak and several of the plates near the middle separated from the rest. The edges had been well disguised, the metal dividing along natural seams. The door that lowered towards them was rough and uneven. It was bolted onto a curved frame, and the sharp edges made Clarke uneasy as it fell heavily onto the dirt path before them.

A second set of wooden doors opened inwards and the riders began nudging their horses to start up again. Lexa snapped the reins, and their cart lurched forward.

Polis was both smaller than she had expected and more vast than she could ever have imagined. Most of the grounder settlements Clarke had seen had been large and sprawling. With so few people on the ground, spatial economy wasn't a huge concern. Some had had walls, of course, but none so permanent as the one they had just passed through.

There was a definite beginning and end to this city, another wall of rock in the distance blocking her view beyond the limits of Polis. There were no massive trees in the capitol like those that made up the forest outside, but everything appeared lush and green. Each squared building was afloat in its own garden, and all looked to have been masoned. Dark paint obscured the exact composition of the structures, but as in the city below large windows and outdoor displays denoted places where various goods were to be found.

At the entrance to the city everything was grand, but modestly sized. One storied buildings with flat roofs were painted in greens and browns, some of those nearer the gate bearing gilded trim. It was less crowded here as well, and the few Grounders she could see were dressed more finely than any she had seen in her time on the planet. Gone were the rugged skins and rough cloth, replaced by clean fur and supple leather, thin linen and gauzy cotton.

Unlike Polis Daun, however, this Polis had no main road leading in towards the center of the city. Lexa guided their horse along a cobblestone street lining the interior of the towering wall, turning onto one of the smaller branches and guiding them inward over the twisting pathways towards the taller, darker buildings at the city center.

It took an alarmingly long time for the carriage to reach the center of the city, and by the time the commander brought them to a stop Clake's pain and fear had abated in the wake of her looming exhaustion. She didn't even care that Lexa waited only long enough to wave her in the direction of her quarters before starting off and away. She made a beeline towards the door in front of her, stumbling when a hand shot out to keep her from entering. She looked up, confused, and found Ryder shaking his head at her. She was about to question him when she noticed a slim female warrior slip into the building before her.

Like the others at the restaurant, the woman was out of sight for several too long minutes. She returned to the doorway and gave what Clarke recognized as the all clear. The large, steadying hand still on her shoulder urged her forward. Ryder walked with her into the house and showed her up two flights of stairs. He nodded for her to enter to room in front of them, and with a weary smile in thanks she stepped in and shut the door.

She was relieved to finally be on her own again, a massive bed only a matter of feet away. There were no windows in the chamber, so Clarke took the time to peel away the filthy, confining clothing that clung to her. She climbed between the soft cotton sheets, lay her still grimy head on the pillow and finally let go of consciousness.

Clarke awoke to darkness, warmth and comfort. It crossed her mind that perhaps this was death. If it was, death was nice. She spotted a dim, flickering glow and rolled onto her side to investigate. Everything from her bones to the surface of her skin protested painfully. Not dead. Shame.

She squirmed to the edge of the bed and after a weighty, wobbling moment was able to throw back the covers and force herself into a seated position. Her ankle swung painfully into the edge of a dark, squarish end table and she hissed in pain.

She leaned towards the drowning wick, a cup of hot wax all that remained of the candle that had once housed it. Thankfully, she spotted another taper waiting beside the pan of the chamberstick. Carefully, she lit the new candle off the remains of the last and slid it into place, the melted stub sealing it steadily into the holder.

She looked around for her carelessly discarded clothing. She was too tired and sore to bother with much, so a small thrill ran through her when she spotted a puddle of clean, pale fabric on the floor at the foot of her bed. From the way it was pinched between the mattress and the curved metal bed frame she assumed it had been laid out in anticipation of her arrival.

She pulled it free as carefully as she could, her hands stiff and unwilling. She fumbled with the light cloth until she found the bottom hem and pulled it over her head. She was still dirty and sore, but it felt good to be rested, and even better to be wearing new, clean clothes.

Clarke sat back on the edge of the bed, pathetically winded and dizzy from the few moments on her feet. She felt hot and nauseous, the room around her icy cool. She pressed her bare feet against the floor and let her eyes slip closed. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Out. In, out.

When she was ready, she opened her eyes and looked around. There was a large wooden armoire against one wall, but aside from that the room was sparsely decorated. The sole embellishment was a faded seascape hanging above the bed.

There were two doors, the one she had entered through the night before and another on the opposite wall leading further into the house. When she felt ready, Clarke picked up the candlestick and went to investigate.

To her surprise the door led not to a closet, but to a bathroom. Like the bedroom, there didn't appear to be any windows, but her flame reflected off the small mirrors that dotted the walls and brought sufficient light. She had spent so much of her time with the Grounders on the road or the battlefield that it had never crossed her mind to expect anything above primitive.

She walked over to the sink and tried the tap. The pipes spluttered for a few moments, but soon cool, clear liquid ran over her outstretched hand. She fiddled with it briefly to see if she could get it to run hot, but her efforts came to no avail. Even so she set the candle down to splash the brisk water over her face.

After she had scrubbed what she could of the salt and sweat from her skin she took a wary glance at herself in one of the tarnished mirrors. She looked like hell. Despite her restful sleep there were bruise like circles under her eyes. Her nose was still bruised and she had pimples in places she didn't even know she could get pimples until she had been dropped onto this dirty planet. And that was only from the neck up.

There was a large stone tub at the far end of the room and she was eager to cleanse herself of the filth from the past few days. She hadn't ever had a bath before. Not a real one, anyways. There hadn't been room on the Ark or in the bunker for such a luxury. She wondered what her mother or Dante would think it they knew they had been outclassed by the Grounders on such a basic level.

She crossed to the bath and started the tap. She tried again to get the water to run hot, but there didn't seem to be that much finesse to the simple plumbing. The water wasn't icy, though, and there was a bar of rich brown soap on the lip of the tub, so she cut her losses and slipped out of her nightgown.

As she stepped into the water she left behind the clever girl who had been backed into a corner. She would come out a capable woman, she told herself. A woman who could hold her own against the entire council and make a place for herself as an ambassador here in Polis. She hoped she could save her people in the process.


End file.
